Beauty's Kiss(5)

Taylor didn’t need a man or husband to provide. Taylor would provide. And she had. Which reminded her, she’d need to call her insurance agent as soon as she reached the house, and a tow truck, and make arrangements for a rental car. She sighed inwardly, disappointed in herself for losing control on the pass. There were a lot of things going on this week. She didn’t need the hassle of being car-less on top of everything else.

Leaning forward, she reached for her oversized leather satchel at her feet. Taylor didn’t use purses. She loved her messenger-style book bag and she quickly found the satchel’s inner pocket where she kept her phone. Retrieving it, she checked messages but there was no service. They’d get service when they got closer to Marietta and that wouldn’t be long now.

“You said you were new in town,” Troy said, his deep, low voice breaking the silence.

She nodded as his dark blue gaze briefly slid over her in the dim light of the car before his gaze returned to the road.

She exhaled, hard.

He’d only looked at her for a moment but it was enough to make her insides flip, setting loose a dozen butterflies in her middle. She pressed her phone to her lap, and drew a deep breath to calm the nervous butterflies. “I moved to Marietta at the end of summer, right around Labor Day Weekend.”

“What do you think of the place?”

“I like it.”

“People nice?”

She thought of Judge McCorkle and how he’d handled the sentencing of her brother. She thought also of those who’d been so critical towards Jane and her ideas for the Chamber of Commerce. “Most people.”

He shot her another swift glance. “You’ve met some less than friendly folks?”

There went the butterflies again. She shifted, uneasy. She didn’t understand it, didn’t understand why he’d make her feel so nervous, but every time he looked at her, every time she met his gaze, her heart raced.

So strange.

Men didn’t give her the jitters. And polished, sophisticated men, especially handsome sophisticated men, didn’t appeal to her. She wasn’t a fan of city men, finding them too smooth, too slick. But even in his dark wool trousers and expensive black cashmere V-neck sweater, Troy exuded strength. Toughness. He had a rugged masculinity that was pure Montana.

Maybe that’s what she was reacting to.

If so, she needed to stop. She didn’t want to be attracted to Troy Sheenan. And maybe it wasn’t really Troy. Maybe it was the accident. Maybe she was still in shock, shaken from the impact, disoriented from spinning on the ice and slamming into the guardrail. “Everyone has been polite to me,” she said carefully. “But that’s not necessarily true for others. It seems like there are different standards in Marietta. If you are from Marietta, there is one set of rules, and if you’re new to Marietta, there’s another.”

“Can you give me specifics?”

“I don’t know that I should. I don’t want to criticize your hometown. Suffice it to say, there are some in the community that view newcomers with suspicion, particularly if they’re suggesting change. But that is probably true for most small towns.

I’m from a small Montana town myself, Hopeville—”

“Hopeville?” he repeated.

She grimaced. “Has to be ironic. There wasn’t much hope in Hopeville. Our population was less than a thousand and there was no opportunity there, nor much of anything but hard drinking and hard living.”

“How did you end up in Marietta?”

“A job,” she said.

“What do you do?”

She primly adjusted her glasses. “I’m a librarian.”

“You are?”

She heard the note of surprise in his voice, as well as a measure of respect. “I’ve been hired to take over as head librarian when Margaret Houghton retires in June,” she added, feeling a small bubble of warmth. She was proud of her position. She loved her work as a librarian and Marietta’s graceful, historic building deserved excellent, modern programs, programs Taylor was determined to implement as soon as she took over.

“Impressive.”

Taylor’s insides felt fluttery all over again. She shouldn’t care what he thought. But apparently some part of her—some ridiculous, weak part of her—did.

Annoyed with herself, Taylor stared out her passenger window, noting how the delicate icy flakes stuck to the glass and wondering how she could bring up Jane without making it awkward.

But just sitting next to Troy made Taylor’s pulse race and her mouth go dry and so she gave up trying to figure out how to introduce the subject of Jane and focused instead on the snow.